Alan and I sat down to breakfast about six of the clock. The
floor was covered with broken glass and in a horrid mess of
blood, which took away my hunger. In all other ways we were in a
situation not only agreeable but merry; having ousted the
officers from their own cabin, and having at command all the
drink in the ship -- both wine and spirits -- and all the dainty
part of what was eatable, such as the pickles and the fine sort
of bread. This, of itself, was enough to set us in good humour,
but the richest part of it was this, that the two thirstiest men
that ever came out of Scotland (Mr. Shuan being dead) were now
shut in the fore-part of the ship and condemned to what they
hated most -- cold water.

"And depend upon it," Alan said, "we shall hear more of them ere
long. Ye may keep a man from the fighting, but never from his
bottle."

We made good company for each other. Alan, indeed, expressed
himself most lovingly; and taking a knife from the table, cut me
off one of the silver buttons from his coat.

"I had them," says he, "from my father, Duncan Stewart; and now
give ye one of them to be a keepsake for last night's work. And
wherever ye go and show that button, the friends of Alan Breck
will come around you."

He said this as if he had been Charlemagne, and commanded armies;
and indeed, much as I admired his courage, I was always in danger
of smiling at his vanity: in danger, I say, for had I not kept my
countenance, I would be afraid to think what a quarrel might have
followed.

As soon as we were through with our meal he rummaged in the
captain's locker till he found a clothes-brush; and then taking
off his coat, began to visit his suit and brush away the stains,
with such care and labour as I supposed to have been only usual
with women. To be sure, he had no other; and, besides (as he
said), it belonged to a king and so behoved to be royally looked
after.

For all that, when I saw what care he took to pluck out the
threads where the button had been cut away, I put a higher value
on his gift.

He was still so engaged when we were hailed by Mr. Riach from the
deck, asking for a parley; and I, climbing through the skylight
and sitting on the edge of it, pistol in hand and with a bold
front, though inwardly in fear of broken glass, hailed him back
again and bade him speak out. He came to the edge of the
round-house, and stood on a coil of rope, so that his chin was on
a level with the roof; and we looked at each other awhile in
silence. Mr. Riach, as I do not think he had been very forward
in the battle, so he had got off with nothing worse than a blow
upon the cheek: but he looked out of heart and very weary, having
been all night afoot, either standing watch or doctoring the
wounded.

"This is a bad job," said he at last, shaking his head.

"It was none of our choosing," said I.

"The captain," says he, "would like to speak with your friend.
They might speak at the window."

"And how do we know what treachery he means?" cried I.

"He means none, David," returned Mr. Riach, "and if he did, I'll
tell ye the honest truth, we couldnae get the men to follow."

"Is that so?" said I.

"I'll tell ye more than that," said he. "It's not only the men;
it's me. I'm frich'ened, Davie." And he smiled across at me.
"No," he continued, "what we want is to be shut of him."

Thereupon I consulted with Alan, and the parley was agreed to and
parole given upon either side; but this was not the whole of Mr.
Riach's business, and he now begged me for a dram with such
instancy and such reminders of his former kindness, that at last
I handed him a pannikin with about a gill of brandy. He drank a
part, and then carried the rest down upon the deck, to share it
(I suppose) with his superior.